


Frost-devoured heart

by Naelhinn



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bruises and wounds, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Liege/Knight, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naelhinn/pseuds/Naelhinn
Summary: In the aftermath of the battle at Arianrhod, Edelgard goes to watch over a lost and wounded Ingrid to ask her why she fights her own people with such fury and little care for her own life.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 1
Kudos: 51





	Frost-devoured heart

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Haven't posed in a while but I have been working on this Edelgrid for months and I suddenly got the inspiration to finish it while working on a gift long overdue and I felt like it was not a good idea to just keep refraining myself to write something I am really, rally into and love very dearly (as much as it makes me cry because I love Edelgrid but it's just sooo good with that)  
> So, hope you'll like, and don't hesitate to tell me if you spot any typo or mistake, English isn't my first language and I didn't wanna bother my friend who usually beta-reads me because end of the year stuff and also I'd prefer the next thing I directely send her to be her birthday gift, so here goes :D

As she walked in the barrack that had been converted into a temporary hospital, she quickly glanced in every room. There had been heavy casualties; losses and injured in great numbers, but the imperial army had grasped the victory. Arianrhod had been taken, and with it Edelgard hoped to strike a severe blow to the Kingdom, both to its defences and the morale of its lords.   
There were whispers as she passed by rooms filled to the brim with soldiers, both the injured and the safe who had come visit their friend. This was her army. People; with friends, families, loved ones that cared about them. They were not alone. None of them. As she got further into the building, voices slowly faded and died. Soon it was silent and her heart tightened. The last door in the corridor was open, and rays of light ghastly poured from it, filled with dust.   
Edelgard steeled herself and entered the room. There was only one bed, and Ingrid laid in it, looking at the window. It gave on white roofs and a street still snow-immaculate. From there, it seemed like nothing had happened. She turned to Ingrid. She gazed in the distance and seemed somewhat sad or nostalgic.  
“Do you now regret your choice?”  
“Your majesty!”  
Ingrid was caught by surprise then stood voiceless for a few seconds. She looked again at the window, then sighed and shook her head.   
“I… I was just overwhelmed by memories… I came here once, a long time ago.”  
Softly, she added:  
“It hasn't changed much.”  
She smiled and turned toward Edelgard, who was still looking at her gravely.  
“May I ask the reason of your presence your majesty? Surely with Arianrhod now being yours, you have much to concern about. Much more important than me.”

Rumours had been running among the troops ever since Ingrid had been granted a room of her own in the newly converted hospital. Hubert had warned her that it could cause trouble in her ranks, but now Edelgard was sure that it was not as much a reward as a sad curse. This room told nothing but of her loneliness. Despite her best efforts, she was still attached to her past and the troops still had difficulties with her.   
Edelgard grasped a chair, moved it next to the bed and sat there. Ingrid tried to sit up but was forced back to laying by Edelgard, although the empress didn't need to put much strength in it. Ingrid was pale, her left arm had been pierced by a lance and a sword had landed a nasty blow on her chest. She didn't need to see the wounds, she had seen her receive them. 

“I have indeed; but I cannot simply ignore you. You are still my knight and of all the matters I need to address, you certainly are an important one.”  
“Your majesty?”

Edelgard raised her hand as to slap Ingrid but instead let it fall heavily right next to her head.

“Do not ever do what you did again. Leaping in front of me like that could have gotten you killed. You were already injured. You were lucky to survive.”

A shadow passed over Ingrid's eyes.

“Lucky? I wonder. But it is my duty as your knight. I couldn't simply let him strike you. I am to die for you, that your life may be saved and your will accomplished.”

Edelgard frowned. Again. Always the same discourse. Always the same… craving for death; a noble, knightly death, but death nonetheless. The further they got in Kingdom territory, the clearer it appeared to her. She fought desperately, threw herself restlessly at those she should, be all rights, have fought on the side of. She had always emerged victorious, but with every fight she put herself at risk more than ever. Even here, on the very walls of Arianrhod, she had challenged Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius. Silent and cold she was when she charged him, the soldiers had told Edelgard, and it was a frightening scene how she fought carelessly. In the end, the shield of Faerghus laid dead, but she had been severely wounded. And despite her injuries, she had still risen to fend off he attack against her empress. It was not bravery, it was not loyalty, it was not knighthood. It was a death wish.

At last, Edelgard spoke again:

“I do not need to be protected.”

Ingrid grinned and tried to shake her head.

“It is the duty of your knight to protect you, should your life be bought with theirs.”  
“Was I not clear enough Ingrid? I do not need protection. I am no mere child. Ought I remember you I too fought at Garrech Mach?”  
“But if you were to die I...” Ingrid started, but she was cut-off by Edelgard, who answered harshly:  
“I don't intend to die, and if I were to, then it would be for my ideals, for a better world. Were I to die before I could see it through, it would be falling foes for the future, knowing my sacrifice will not be vain.”  
“Why then refuse my sacrifice? Why then refuse my death if it could ensure your ideals? Why then not understand that I would crumble, fall and lose the little I now have if you were to die because I didn't risk my life for yours?”

As feeble as she was, gravely injured, her voice rose much higher than what Edelgard expected. Only at the end did it break, and she then realized she had just shouted at the empress, her liege, and she turned her eyes away, a sorry look on her face.   
Outside, the wind grew stronger and snow was beginning to fall. There was an awkward silence as both gathered their thoughts. Eventually, Ingrid tried to apologize:

“I...”  
“It was stupid.”

Surprised, Ingrid turned to Edelgard only to see how she looked at her with pity in her eyes.

“If your death could secure the future I fight for, I would not be here right now. But I cannot let you die, especially a pointless death. I need not be nursed and protected.”

She sat again, and although her voice was softer, it was still a commanding one.

“You do not long for my sake. You long only for your death.”  
“Your majesty, I assure you..!”  
“Do not interrupt me. You fear you betrayed what ideals you followed. A knight, traitor to their king, pledging themselves to their enemy: this is how you see yourself. Traitor, not only to ideas, but to people, to knighthood embodied.”

Ingrid was awfully silent. She tried to look away but Edelgard grabbed her chin and forced the knight to look right in her eyes as she spoke.

“Is this what you think? Is this why you keep throwing yourself at opponents, trying to defend me? Do you think that dying a noble, knightly death would absolve your betrayal? Can't you see yourself a knight except in death?”

Ingrid didn't answer, but when Edelgard let go of her chin, she kept staring at her and didn't look away. Her green eyes were stormed with sorrow and dismay. Eventually, she whispered:

“I stained my dream of knighthood the very day I left the Kingdom and house Galatea… I don't even know if death could wash it all away.”

She stopped and for a moment it was like she was lost in her thoughts. It didn't take long before she added:

“I know I did the right choice. I chose what I believe in. I chose the one I think will bring Fodlan to a brighter day. I chose to serve you, willingly sullied the knight I aspired to be and my ideals.”

She smiled a sad smile.

“I am happy I pledged myself to you, your majesty. All I can do is die at your service, and maybe fall into oblivion, never to be remembered to the future generation you will shine upon.”

Then she went silent. 

“Then go fight and die if you so wish; but ask me not to keep you close. You are more useful to me alive than dead, yet if death is all that you crave and respect, then go die a pointless death, let your guilt crush and bury you under corpses and oblivion, let your name fade from the pages of history and the hearts of those who write it.”

Her words flew sharp at first but as she went on her voice died out and resolve left her. They carried the weight of months of worry and years of thought. She didn't intend to hurt her, only to offer a helping hand. For too long she had seen her conflicted. Ever since Ingrid had pledged herself to her, Edelgard knew she couldn't cast everything away. Of course it pained her to fight those she once claimed her friends, her family, her country. She didn't lack the resolve to do so, she had proved it many times, but rather she fuelled it with such self destructive forces that Edelgard had been thrown off at first.  
When she had accepted her as a knight, she knew very well how painful it would be for Ingrid, but still she hoped she could free the pegasus knight from her idealization of death, from the one part of her culture that scared her.  
She wanted to offer a hand, to be the light that would shine on the bright future Ingrid was promised, wanted to see her through this war, wanted to see all she could do. She could not replace the friends she fought or the family she lost; she only hoped she could be here for her. Only hoped that somehow she could change how she viewed chivalry and talked her out of her suicidal ways.  
But evidently she hadn't managed it. It was a miracle she hadn't died, and even a surprise that only now had she suffered a heavy injury. And only to protect her, when she didn't even need it. Was her own life so pointless to her eyes? She had changed. The confident and hard working girl she had met at the academy that fought for a future of her own now clung to a burning light, with in her mind but the cold and ashen fields of oblivious death. She had but followed the call of her heart, and now there she was, resting all of her life on her. She wanted nothing more than to offer her a sparkle of the future she would dawn on Fodlan, and share it for how many few years the crests in her body would consent to.

“Ingrid...”

Slowly the knight rose her head and looked in her eyes. She felt a mixture of shame and sadness and found it difficult to maintain eye contact. The words of Edelgard had penetrated deep in her body and she didn't know how to apologize. Her lips, no matter how hard she wanted to say something, were sealed.  
But all afraid that she was to look at first, the more their eyes met, the more she found Edelgard's to be gentle and sorry.   
The empress put her hand on Ingrid's cheek and stroke it carefully, her fingers following her skin down to her bandaged wound. Then, with a voice that was closer to a whisper, she resumed:

“I don't need a list of glorious deeds and heroic memories to write on a tombstone, but someone to see this new world with, to be by my side for however long they deem me worth. I wish I could sway you. Sway you from this death wish of yours. For how I wish I could hold you, and not see you as a faint figure in the horizon, ready to disappear, to phase out of existence. How I wish you would, for once, drop your lance and be more than a ghostly warrior, share some warmth with me.” However cold the winds that froze your heart over, and the words that force their way through your lips, and the white and stainless gloves you cover your hands with, know that I intend to see you live through this war, to strip you of the guilt and frost that shroud your smile. This is the legacy I want you to live, that of the knight you told me about all these years ago, not devoured by remorse and anguish, but proud to stand and fight for what they believed in.”

As she spoke she negligently played with the fingers of Ingrid, turning them in her hand and going back to her wrist. Mist started swelling outside. The knight seemed lost in her thoughts. Slowly her fingers grabbed twisted around Edelgard's, searching for warmth. Her eyes were turned towards the window. Snow was falling again, gently but firmly pushed by a rising wind. She could feel Edelgard's pulse. It was soothing. For a while, at a loss for words, her fingers kept talking for her, exploring the hand of her liege, scanning every inch of skin, grazing the scars.  
Eventually, when Ingrid's fingers stopped their dance and settled, resting in the palm of her hand, Edelgard raised her voice again, but now in a more commanding tone. It was gentle still, for all empress that she was, the intimacy that they shared reminded her of past days and she knew well that her knight was shaken and the wounds she had suffered weighed on her greatly, but it admitted no opposition. 

“Now Ingrid, shall I need to order you back to Enbarr, or can I count on you?”

She twirled her fingers around Ingrid's wrist. Outside, snow was falling with more and more violence, with ethereal rays of light twisting through the mist.

“Ingrid?”

She heard no answer. Her hand tightly gripped to Edelgard's, soothed by her slow and regular pulse, the knight had fallen asleep. As to not let go of Ingrid's hand, Edelgard carefully stood up to watch her face. For the first time since their days at the academy, Edelgard saw her sleep. The anguished and tormented green eyes of the knight, veiled with unspeakable sadness ever since the faithful night she had joined her, were closed. Her face was peaceful and she breathed slowly in her sleep.  
Edelgard smiled gently. Outside, the storm raged and raged. She didn't give any attention to the snow that was now battering the window, focusing instead on the warm silence of the room; it was not the absolute silence of darkness, the one that cut deep in the mind and the flesh, but a silence much sweeter, much softer, like the dim and fragile light candles shed on faces. For a few minutes she stroked Ingrid's forehead. When it was clear that the young knight was deep asleep, Edelgard grabbed the blanket and uncovered Ingrid's body with mixed feelings. She was eager and curious, of course, but dreaded the moment. When she first glanced the bandaged body of Ingrid she let curses slip her lips. The wound was impressive, but not as severe as she thought. Her knight's skin, however, was bruised everywhere, turning blue and purple in some places. There were scars Edelgard knew didn't cover Ingrid's body five years ago, but none of them had ever been reported to her. She bit her tongue to refrain herself and put the blanket back. Faerghus could offer all it had, its hailstorms, blizzards and freezing nights, none of it mattered. Never would she let its wailing winds of this woeful land claim her back. Too long had they taken turn to breaking what beauty and strength she had, only to throw them in a distant and unreachable dream. Faerghus had lost in a storm of her own feelings, let her to rot and now twinkled a traitorous light in her nightmares. She would not stand by that. Her hand was all she could offer, but it would hold her tight. It would give her a way out. Wherever it led, she didn't know herself, the future was quite vague still; but it was a path to walk.  
Faerghus wouldn't take her back. She put her head on Ingrid's chest, near her heart. It didn't deserve her. Neither the hand she held weapon with, nor the heart she fought her ideals with, nor the life she could have. And more than anything – and just as she thought it the wind grew stronger and threw itself at the window, as if to break it open – Faerghus had no right over her death.


End file.
